Friday, January 24, 2020

Happy Lunar New Year 4718 on January 25th!


Hello everyone –

Tomorrow – Saturday, January 25th – marks the beginning of the Lunar New Year in the traditional Chinese calendar. The New Year (or Spring Festival) usually occurs on the second New Moon after the Winter Solstice (December 21 or 22). This weekend, the Year of the Rat will begin as the Chinese calendar year 4718 dawns in East Asia and around the globe.

To celebrate the Lunar New Year, I have selected two poems for you to enjoy. “Ring Out, Wild Bells” is a New Year poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, and “Kubla Khan” (by Samuel Taylor Coleridge) celebrates the splendor of medieval China under the aegis of Kublai Khan (reigned 1260-1294), the grandson of Genghis Khan.

“Ring Out, Wild Bells” (1850)
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892)

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out thy mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

“Kubla Khan” a/k/a “Xanadu” (1816)
By Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But O, that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As ever beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her daemon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced;
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me,
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight ‘twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Happy Lunar New Year to one and all!

Rob J


Friday, January 3, 2020

New Year, New Future -- Reflections from Tennyson


Hello everyone –

With the start of the (Gregorian calendar’s) New Year 2020, many of us will be making resolutions to improve our lives (and the lives of others), all the while wondering what the future might hold for us. I don’t have a Stargate or a crystal ball to tell you what lies ahead on the road of life, but I can hold up for you the Mirror of Poetry, which has served as a wellspring of inspiration for humanity since prehistoric times.

Here are some reflections about the future from Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892), my favorite English poet of the Victorian Era. Tennyson, who served as Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom for most of Queen Victoria’s long reign (1837-1901), penned some of the most memorable verses in the English language, and many of his quotations have become proverbial. Gathered here are some of my favorite passages from Tennyson’s greatest poems, dealing with the future of the human race as he foresaw it during the 19th century.

From “Locksley Hall” (Excerpt)

Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest,
Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the West.
Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising through the mellow shade,
Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid.
Here about the beach I wandered, nourishing a youth sublime
With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time;
When the centuries behind me like a fruitful land reposed;
When I clung to all the present for the promise that it closed:
For I dipped into the future, far as human eye could see,
Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be;
Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails,
Pilots of the purple twilight dropping down with costly bales;
Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rained a ghastly dew
From the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue;
Far along the world-wide whisper of the south-wind rushing warm,
With the standards of the peoples plunging thro' the thunder-storm;
Till the war-drum throbbed no longer, and the battle-flags were furled
In the Parliament of Man, the Federation of the World.
There the common sense of most shall hold a fretful realm in awe,
And the kindly Earth shall slumber, lapped in universal law.

From “Locksley Hall Sixty Years After” (Excerpts)

Earth at last a warless world, a single race, a single tongue,
I have seen her far away -- for is not Earth as yet so young? --
Every tiger madness muzzled, every serpent passion killed,
Every grim ravine a garden, every blazing desert tilled,
Robed in universal harvest up to either pole she smiles,
Universal ocean softly washing all her warless Isles.
*                                           *                                             *
What are men that He should heed us? cried the king of sacred song;
Insects of an hour, that hourly work their brother insect wrong,
While the silent Heavens roll, and Suns along their fiery way,
All their planets whirling round them, flash a million miles a day.
Many an Aeon molded Earth before her highest, man, was born,
Many an Aeon too may pass when Earth is manless and forlorn,
Earth so huge, and yet so bounded -- pools of salt, and plots of land --
Shallow skin of green and azure -- chains of mountain, grains of sand!
Only That which made us, meant us to be mightier by and by,
Set the sphere of all the boundless Heavens within the human eye,
Sent the shadow of Himself, the boundless, thro' the human soul;
Boundless inward, in the atom, boundless outward, in the Whole.
*                                           *                                             *
Follow you the Star that lights a desert pathway, yours or mine.
Forward, till you see the highest Human Nature is divine.
Follow Light, and do the Right -- for man can half-control his doom --
Till you find the deathless Angel seated in the vacant tomb.
Forward, let the stormy moment fly and mingle with the Past.
I that loathed, have come to love him. Love will conquer at the last.

Addendum: Here is another poem by Tennyson, which I dedicate to Dr. Wayne Banwart (1948-2019), a longtime friend, mentor, and role model, who passed away on December 13th. Requiescat in pace.

“Crossing the Bar” (Complete)

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.

“Post tenebras, lux.” (Latin) = “After darkness, there is light.”
-- Official Motto of Canton Geneva, Switzerland

“A good head and a good heart are always a formidable combination.”
-- Nelson Mandela (1918-2013): Long Walk to Freedom (1995)

Until next time –
Rob